


Horses Are Better Than People

by wildglitterwolf



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Cliff Booth is actually just Bi Energy, Developing Relationship, Horses, Internalized Homophobia, Loneliness, M/M, Pre-Movie, Rick is a hot mental mess, depressing childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22443367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildglitterwolf/pseuds/wildglitterwolf
Summary: Rick Dalton didn’t have the greatest childhood and his best friend growing up was a horse. Of course that makes it harder to have real human connects later in life but that new stuntman might finally be the one to break through.
Relationships: Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	Horses Are Better Than People

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sal_paradise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sal_paradise/gifts).



> So sal_paradise brought up them bonding over horses and on a complete and total whim I decided to run with it and it just turned into... this. I’m honestly not exactly sure what I wrote but I hope I wasn’t too mean to your boy after all the torture I told you I could have done to him haha

Before Rick Dalton was a TV cowboy, he was a child who would have probably been fine with just growing up to be a real one. His family didn’t live too far from a property where the youngins of his small Missouri town came to learn how to ride. Not many folks around these parts could afford their own horse (or much of anything, really) while Rick was growing up during the Depression. But since he didn’t know a life before, there was nothing for him to lament like his parents did. He didn’t know his father had to sell his horse to pay off some debts when he was barely a year old. And he certainly didn’t know the people his father sold it to was the same place he grew up learning to ride. As far as he knew, the Daltons’ residence was always a horse free home. 

And without knowing it, he was drawn to the horse that use to be his father’s as if maybe he knew deep down he use to be theirs. But it was also the only palomino of the Missouri Fox Trotters in the stable compared to all the darker colored ones, with a large white star on its face to match the white stockings, so it wasn’t like this one didn’t stand out from the crowd. His name was Lester, and he was Rick’s best childhood friend. 

See, when you’re a kid with a speech impediment, you’re going to be the target of teasing. Add in some soft physical features compared to the other boys in your class, more teasing. Oh, and if you even show the slightest bit of emotion? Well, you’ll get some teasing and maybe even a few punches thrown in your direction to ‘toughen you up’ they’d say. Even his old man wasn’t as kind about it. So in reality, it wasn’t much of a shock that Rick spent most of his time hanging out with the horses in his free time. Other than perhaps his mother, they were far kinder to him than anyone else in this town. 

When Rick was eleven, war finally dragged his country and life as he knew it into a new way of living. The young men left town to join the fight as well as some of the older ones who wanted something else out of life, including Rick’s father. In a way, Rick saw this war as a blessing in disguise. He was much happier at home for one thing as he didn’t fear getting a beating. And because the couple who owned the stables had their children shipped off overseas, they needed help around with the horses. Rick was able to make some spare money doing some grooming and cleaning, and his bond with the animals, especially Lester, flourished during that time. 

Rick had just turned fifteen when news of Germany’s surrender reached their town. He felt he was the only one not jubilant about this between his father returning and the fear he would have to give up his work with the horses. But enough time had passed that the family’s children were ready to move out into the world and Rick was one of the few hired help that wanted to stay on. He was even old enough to pick up more duties such as actually teaching riding lessons as he had become such an exceptional rider himself. 

But all his accomplishments meant nothing to his father. Their relationship was worse off then when he had left as his father started leaning heavily on the bottle even more. Sometimes he’d come home from school and find his mother home alone crying, frantically trying but often failing to cover up any bruises she might have been given. And then one day he came home to find her hanging in the attic, and that was when he broke for good. 

The night after he found his mother, he grabbed a sack of his belongings and broke into Letster’s stall to saddle him up. He had no idea where he was going, he just wanted to get as far away from here as he could. Rick rode Lester harder than he ever had before, making it to the outskirts of town before the lack of visibility became too much of a factor. The sudden jolt and quick fall of both horse and rider took Rick’s mind off his emotions only to replace it with agonizing pain. But his only concern was that Lester wasn’t hurt, fearing if he was he’d be shot on the spot when they were found. If they were found. 

Thankfully, Lester was fine, and he stayed by Rick’s side through the night as Rick eventually passed out from the pain and crying. When he finally came to, Rick found himself in a hospital bed and leg in a cast. Of course, he expected to be reprimanded when the owners came to see him, but luckily they were more forgiving than he gave them credit for. Guess being the son of the town drunk and finding his mother how he did gave him a pass. 

And not only was he given forgiveness, but a place to stay seeing as his father was no longer fit to be his guardian. He was going to do all he could to make it up to them for giving him this second chance. Once his leg healed, he got right back to work and even took on some of the household chores as well without asking. 

But the events of that summer were of course the most gossiped about things around, and having that on top of high school life was almost too much of a burden for Rick. Rick had only heard the term ‘faggot’ hurled his way a couple times before, both by his old man, although he didn’t know what it meant. But now his lack of interest in going steady with anyone in high school meant he started hearing it a lot more. There was also the occasional ‘horse fucker’ thrown around as well and remarks that maybe he’d be interested in Mary Anne because she had a long face like one. But despite all that, he was a popular object of desire amongst the groups of girls, especially the ones who often rode with him. Perhaps they found something attractive about a guy knowing his way around a horse. Maybe they thought of him like a bronco that needed to be tamed by the right woman. But Rick truly wasn’t interested even though he didn’t fully understand why. Guess horses were just easier to deal with than people. 

Rick rarely saw his father anymore. The house was sold not long after his mother’s death and Rick honestly couldn’t give a shit where he was. Now and then he’d see him in the distance in a drunken rage over some meaningless argument. Rick swore he would never become that and stayed away from all the alcohol out of fear. 

The summer evening the day after he had graduated high school, Rick found his father passed out in Lester’s stall. He reeked of booze, of course. But something about his father invading what he considered his sanctuary infuriated him. He roughly shook him awake and threatened to call the cops to haul him off to jail for trespassing. Instead his father started rambling on how he wouldn’t have gotten to know this horse if it wasn’t for him, how it was his first but had to sell him to support a child he never wanted. A child who cries at everything instead of being stoic like a man should. That everyone in town thinks he has a faggot for a son and he’s the reason he drank. The reason his mother was dead. 

Rick’s anxiety and anger were slowly rising to the top until he couldn’t contain it any longer. “SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!!!” he screams as he grabs the pitchfork and threatens it at his father’s throat. Lester suddenly backs up further into his stall, not use to seeing his usual handler like this. 

And then his father is yelling at him to do it. At least he would die knowing he had the balls to go through with it. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He wasn’t a killer, and he wouldn’t start now.

The cops came to pick him up about an hour later. When Rick got the news he passed away in jail a few days later, he couldn’t help but feel like he was finally free. 

—-

Rick lied on the couch of his Hollywood apartment as a lonely, sobbing mess. He’d often thought of going back to Missouri. He only came out here simply on the notion that he looked good in a cowboy hat and even better on a horse like everyone told him. Like that was any reason he’d make it in this business. But today he received a letter that Lester had passed away from old age so now there wasn’t much for him to go back to in his mind. 

No, this was his life now. That Midwestern country boy had to grow up faster than even after his mother passed. At least back home the setting and people were familiar. Here it felt like a foreign country and his loneliness and depression only messed with his mind more and the dilemma of finally giving into the downers weighed heavily on him. But he refused to give in to his father’s crutch, he won’t become like that. Never. 

Finally it happened for Rick as he was in the right place at the right time. He had taken to working with the horses at Spahn Ranch figuring this might be the closest he’ll ever get to working in the industry when a film crew for a new TV western came by for scouting. They saw Rick up on a horse riding around like it was second nature and declared they found their Jake Cahill. He would be the new face of traditional masculinity, a description Rick never had associated with himself before but losing that baby fat helps. Maybe now people would finally consider him a man. 

—

“Goddamnit, where’s my fucking horse, Rob?”

“New stunt double is taking him out for a test ride.”

“Should of given him Nero to try that out on. Caesar is m-my horse, Rob. Y-you know I like to take lunch out with him.”

“He figured since he’s playing you that he’d get use to the horse you actually ride.”

Rick grumbles and just waves him away as he flops down in the chair he usually sat in by the pen to wait. He was gonna have to have some words with this stuntman, and as the star of the show he’ll know it’s a definite order. I’m Rick Dalton. Don’t use my fucking horse. Easy.

To say the Hollywood lifestyle hadn’t gone to Rick’s head would be a bit of an understatement. Finally, after his whole life of being the laughing stock and resentment of many, here he was beloved and adored. For the first time in his life he didn’t care that he didn’t have friends or that people found him difficult to work with at times. As long as the audience loved him, that’s all that mattered. 

At least that’s what he tells himself. 

He was so fucking lonely and was reminded of it every time he went back to his apartment. And then when he finally bought a house, the larger space only came with more of that feeling. He wondered why the hell he felt the need to torment himself like this. 

Rick was trying not to cry as he meditated on those dark thoughts when he heard the trotting of Caesar’s return and this asshole stuntman who thinks he can just run off with the star’s horse. 

“Now listen here, who the hell do you think you are taking off on my horse like that without… without…” _Holy shit, this guy is too pretty to be a stuntman._

“Why I’m sorry. I thought it’d be better if I felt what it was like on your stead on the account that I’m playing you and all.” The man dismounts off the horse and offers the reigns over. 

“I-I-III-“

“Hey, are you okay there?” 

The other man starts reaching out to touch him and all Rick’s mind can do is flash back to all those times on the school yard when guys like this one did the same. It always ended up in him getting hurt. 

“NO! Don’t touch me!” Rick’s never gotten the courage to fight back before as he smacks the stuntman’s hand away. Then he realizes he’s probably pissed him off and his fight or flight instincts start battling with each other on what to do. Apparently both instincts decided it was best to just start crying. 

The stuntman watched all of this in complete fascination rather than disgust or feeling insulted. “Alright. I won’t touch you. But here’s your horse back.”

Rick sniffs as he takes the reigns. “Th-th-thanks. P-p-please don’t… don’t tell people you saw this.”

“Heh. Of course. You take care, Mr. Dalton. Enjoy the rest of your lunch.” And with that, the stuntman gave him a kind smile and a nod before disappearing towards the office. 

Rick felt strange. It was a feeling he didn’t think he ever felt before but didn’t quite know how to describe it. Of course, since he’s never had many positive interactions with that kind of masculinity before then it was probably just the unexpected interaction that was getting to him. 

“Alright, boy,” he mutters to Caesar. “Don’t get too comfortable with pretty boy there. Don’t need him to actually replace me and all.”

—

Rick groaned when he woke up the next morning after having a rough night of sleep. He couldn’t get that asshole and his dumb smile off his mind all night. Hopefully he wouldn’t run into him today or he’d probably tell him off for invading his dreams and keeping him up. Then that would only lead to a more awkward conversation and some other drama Rick didn’t want to stir up. Now Rick could lie to himself all he wants but deep down, he really, _really_ wanted to see this guy again today, be it the loneliness or something else. But Rick thought it was best not to show that side. After all, he was the star. This was his show, he wasn’t going to be replaced by a stuntman! And if he had to out alpha this alpha, then he would. 

When Rick did find his stuntman, it was a mixed bag of emotions. Not just the internal struggle of wanting, not wanting, but really do wanting to see him but of course he finds him at the horse pen again during his lunch break. Now this guy wasn’t on his horse but he was still petting and talking to him and that was enough to set irrational Rick Dalton off. 

“Hey, the fuck you think you’re doing? Didn’t I tell you to leave my horse alone.”

“If I recall, you didn’t say much of anything. You were just very flustered. Don’t worry, I tend to have that effect on people.” And then that prick had the nerve to smile at him again.

“Wh-wh-what e-effect. I-I-I am not effected by you i-in any way.”

“You’re mad I’m with your horse. I’m not hurting him.”

“Please, he’s MY horse! G-go bond with another one, p-please. He’s m-my only f-friend…” Rick heard those last words and his stomach dropped as he squeezed his eyes tightly. Rick Dalton. TV star Rick Dalton’s only friend is a fucking horse. He could feel the stuntman’s eyes burning into him. Judging him. Probably getting ready to ridicule him like they always do in the end. 

“Alright. I’ll leave you two alone. Have a good day, Mr. Dalton.”

Rick kept his eyes shut tight until he felt it was safe to open them. He saw that the stuntman had gone over to the other end of the pen and was right back at work getting the other horses comfortable with him. Rick had never seen any of the horses he’s work with before taking to another man this quickly. He hated to admit that this guy seemed quite natural at it. The way he was so calm and gentle with them made Rick feel… fuck. Was he envious of a horse?

“This is stupid. Fucking stupid,” Rick mutters to Caesar as his eyes refuse to look away from the other man until he hears his name being called for on set.

—

“Hey Rick, have you seen Cliff around? He’s gonna be needed on set for the next scene.”

“Who the fuck is Cliff?”

“Your stuntman. Have you seriously not met him yet?”

“Oh, nah. I’ve met him. Just didn’t know his name.” _Cliff. What a stupid name at that._ “Go check the horse pen, he might be there still.”

Rick was doing some last minute mental line reciting before going into to do his next scene. It was just some boring talk with the town sheriff about his next bounty, nothing too exciting. After that, Caesar was brought up to him to do some shots just riding through town. Finally for the day, he was gonna have an encounter with the heavy and was supposed to fall off his horse in the process. His ears perked up when he heard Cliff’s name being called, but flared when he saw him approach and flash his teeth at him. 

“Looks like it’s my turn. Or are ya not gonna let me on?”

Rick growls at being teased like this. The nerve of this guy! “Fine. He’s all yours.”

“Thanks, darling,” Cliff whispers as he grabs the reigns and mounts with ease, leaving Rick looking stunned and doing his damndest not to turn red at his words. There was that feeling again. That warm feeling that was filling him inside that he didn’t know how to describe. Oh no. It couldn’t be. 

“Rick. Get out of the shot.”

“Hmm?” Rick looked at the director and suddenly it hit him that he was still in the middle of a film set. He hurries off camera and leans against one of the buildings as he watches Cliff do his thing. And damn, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone fall off a horse in such an amazing way like Cliff did. Or maybe it wasn’t the way he fell but just the way his body looked as it did that enticed him. 

It was when Rick caught himself licking his teeth that he knew how fucked he was. His father, those kids, everyone in that town that ever thought it was right. And what that would mean for Rick and his career was almost certain doom. He had to find a way to suppress these feelings and fast. 

And if his father was right about one thing, then he was probably right that living in a drunken stupor was the only way to survive in life. So that night after wrap, Rick picked up a six pack and began living just like that. 

—-

“Why do I keep seeing you here?”

“Well. Why do you keep coming here?”

“I-I told you. H-he’s my only friend here.”

“I don’t have any friends here so you’re doing better than me,” Cliff says with a small laugh as he scratches the back of his head. Was this guy nervous? Flirting? Rick couldn’t tell, and frankly, he didn’t want to know. Maybe Cliff was the actual fag and he was perfectly normal and was trying to rub off his disease on him. Then Rick noticed the ring. 

“Y-you married?”

“Yeah.”

“Still more human friends than I have.”

“I don’t know if I’d call her much of a friend but sure.”

“B-but she’s your wife!”

“Yeah.” 

Cliff didn’t look too happy about it as he offers Nero a sugar cube and pets his face. Rick decided not to press him any further on about her.

“I-if you want to be my friend I-I won’t mind.” Rick says it with a tone as if he’s doing Cliff a favor more so then he wants it as well. In reality, he just doesn’t want to seem desperate. 

“Sure. If you want.”

“Alright. Guess we’re friends.”

“Guess we are.”

Rick wasn’t sure what to do or say next. The years of stunted maturity in the department of close human relationships was coming into play and his anxiety was starting to ramp up. What if he hates him? What if he’s a shitty friend? Or he finds a new and better friend? What do friends even do??

“Want to grab drinks after work?” Cliff could sense Rick’s uneasiness and decided to take charge of the situation. “Or go to your place and watch TV or something?”

“M-my place? Not yours?” Rick could feel his pulse racing at the thought of being alone with this guy. 

“My wife’s not at your place. I could pick up beer and grab a pizza, have a guys’ night in.”

“O-okay…” This was some advance friend level shit he wasn’t yet ready for.

“Great. I’ll come by around six.”

—

Rick was a rather neat person by habit so he wasn’t trying to clean the place last minute or anything. Instead, he spent most of the time until Cliff arrived in the bathroom trying to make himself look good. He didn’t know why he was so concerned with how he looked for Cliff because that guy wasn’t exactly giving off the vibes as someone who took care of himself. No. He knew why he was doing this. He wanted Cliff to think he was attractive and hated himself for it. That realization made him stop in the middle of fixing his hair and go get started on his first beer for the night. 

He was already swaying a bit with the doorbell rang as he was still learning to build up a tolerance. Rick goes to open the door and gives Cliff the first smile he’s ever given him. “Come on in, make yourself at home! Lemme take that for you,” he mumbles as he takes the pizza box and beer from him to the kitchen. 

“Nice place. Guess I shouldn’t expect anything less from a big time star. Can’t believe I’m actually friends with Rick fuckin’ Dalton!”

That praise was like catnip to Rick. Someone actually excited to be his friend? He was getting a buzz and it definitely wasn’t from the beer. “Ah, shucks. You’re making me blush.”

“Nah, man. Been a fan since your show started. Really, I can’t believe I get to work with you it’s truly an honor.”

Rick had to bite his lip and grip the counter just to calm himself. What the fuck was up with this guy and this weird influence over him. “W-w-why don’t we watch a game o-or something.”

“Yeah, sure. The Lakers are probably playing tonight, I think. Hey, we should go to a game sometime, what do you say? Or Dodgers or Rams if you prefer those sports?”

If Rick was being honest, he’d tell Cliff that he didn’t know a damn thing about any sports and he only said let’s watch a game because he thought that’s what men did. But this was Rick, standing in front of a guy he had the kind of feelings for he knew men shouldn’t have for each other, and he wasn’t about to admit such a thing. “Okay.”

So Rick just sat there in his chair listening to Cliff’s game commentary, not understanding a damn thing he was saying and unable to answer his questions. Soon the charade was too much handle anymore. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I-I don’t understand a d-damn thing you’re saying. I’m such a fucking fraud. I’m n-not manly enough t-to be your friend.” Rick wipes his tears off on his arm. He’s really done it now. He’s gotten a couple passes already, no way he was going to get another this time. 

“Rick, come here.”

The voice was calm yet firm but inviting nonetheless. Rick slowly looks up at him, still scared and nervous Cliff was going to hurt him. All the boys do.

“Come on, I won’t hurt you.” It was as Cliff knew what he was feeling, and as soon as Cliff opened his arms out for him, Rick had the feeling that maybe he was being genuine. He slowly climbs out of his seat and makes his way over, the little trust he had left in his being and he was about to risk it all right here. And so he shuts his eyes and awkwardly flops himself down on top of Cliff, all his muscles tense in case he was wrong for doing this.

But Cliff was true to his word. He wrapped his arms around Rick and rubbed his back until he felt all the tension leave his body. “That’s it. Just breathe, man. I got you.”

“W-why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you like a-all the other men I-I’ve dealt with in my life?”

“Trust me. I’m not a good man by any means, so if you’re saying I’m one of the better ones then I’d hate to meet those people.”

“You’re definitely the k-kindest.”

“That’s a damn low bar, the fuck kind of people you’d grow up knowing?”

Rick just shrugs thinking perhaps he was just a unique situation and that maybe people as a whole were a lot better than he gave them credit for. “I wasn’t k-kidding about horses being my only friends.”

“Ah. I see. Well if I’d grown up with you I’d be your friend. Then we could be those two weird boys bonding over horses together.”

“We still could be.”

“Ah yup. We still could. Kinda are already, don’t ya think? Unless you really don’t want me around at lunch anymore.”

“No, no, you can stay. I’m sorry for being a jerk. I just…” Rick goes quiet, not really sure what to say but somehow Cliff understood anyways. 

“It don’t matter, Rick. Really. It doesn’t.”

So Rick just lied there in Cliff’s arms feeling a security he’s never felt before. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe this was just a long term prank and one day Cliff will give him the same treatment he’s always gotten from others. But for now, Rick was just going to enjoy whatever this was and the hope that there really are some people out there who are better company than horses.


End file.
